


Final Countdown

by Danny (DannyC)



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Jason tries to save his mother, Prompt Fill, quick fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 09:41:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14399415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DannyC/pseuds/Danny
Summary: Jason hadn’t exactly known what to expect when he had arrived in the Ethiopian warehouse, but his mind had gifted him fanciful ideas, scenes playing out behind his eyes as he drew nearer and nearer his mother, the chance at true family, blood relation and belonging. At love. Of course, he was beginning to regret some of his choices, now.





	Final Countdown

**Author's Note:**

> Fill of a request for a quick look at playtime with the Joker, recently rediscovered in the recesses of my tumblr hah. If you have an idea that you want to be written, feel free to hit me up.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. 

Jason hadn’t exactly known what to expect when he had arrived in the Ethiopian warehouse, but his mind had gifted him fanciful ideas, scenes playing out behind his eyes as he drew nearer and nearer his mother, the chance at true family, blood relation and belonging. At love. Bruce loved him, Jason knew that without a doubt, but there were still other doubts within him, whispers in the back of his mind that left him fearing that Bruce would someday be rid of him. Would Bruce cast him back out to the streets? Would he instead take Dick Grayson back, the prodigal son? Jason didn’t know, and that was why he worried. Then he’d been given the opportunity to meet his mother, to save her; Jason wasn’t going to throw that away.

Of course, he was beginning to regret some of his choices, now. Jason wasn’t sorry that he’d come – the pain aside, Jason had come to save his mother. The only thing he regretted was coming alone, instead of telling Bruce his plans, or waiting for Dick and Donna to return with the Titans. Not that he knew when that would be… Jason couldn’t regret trying to help his mother. He had failed his mom, he couldn’t fail her, too.

Another swing dredged Jason back up from his sluggish thoughts, a broken cry escaping bloodied lips. He’d already lost a tooth, chipped or busted out of his mouth, he didn’t know. His ribs were in trouble, his body on fire as he curled up, desperately attempting to shield himself, to crawl away. His ankle must have been broken, foot twisted at an awkward angle and unable to bare his weight, preventing him from standing to run. Not that he could stand if he wanted to, really; repeated blows to his abdomen and back had done the trick, broken him thoroughly enough that Jason could do little more than cry and scream and take each and every hit, squirming and writhing with the last of his energy. He tried not to beg. He tried not to cry or scream or show how badly he was hurting, but God, God it was hard. He wanted Bruce, Batman – he wanted his dad. 

Jason could barely breathe. He realized this in a distant, foggy way; one moment he was giving another sharp sound of agony, the next he was drawing in a ragged, hitched gasp, then another. When had this started? When had this become all there was? He couldn’t hear well anymore, a ringing in his ears that almost succeeded in drowning out that laughter, the wet sounds of his lungs desperately trying to fill with air, the dull thud of metal on flesh. One eye was swollen shut, the other bloodshot and holding tears that trailed down his cheeks, despite his attempts to keep them at bay. He was pretty sure he’d thrown up or pissed himself, but he didn’t dare lift his head to check.

It didn’t help.

Jason lost count of the times he was struck, the number of laughs and taunts thrown at him. He lost count of the seconds, minutes, hours? that ticked by, waiting, waiting, waiting. He lost count of how many times he promised himself Bruce would come, that his dad would save him. When the final blow came, Jason coughed, spattering blood across the floor, adding to the pool and smears already left in their wake. 

Jason knew the truth. He knew it in the way his body felt, in how it didn’t feel. He knew it in the cold, the white hot fire in his chest. He knew it in the sounds of his attempts at breathing, in the frothy red foam at the corner of his mouth. He knew the truth, and the truth was, his dad wasn’t coming to save him. Jason was dying, and he would die alone.

Forcing himself to focus as well as he could, Jason tried to listen to what the Joker was saying to him, tried watching what he was doing. It was hard, so hard. All Jason wanted to do was close his eyes, drift for a while. Maybe when he woke, it wouldn’t hurt so bad. Maybe Bruce would– No. No, Jason knew where those thoughts would lead him, where sleeping would lead him. He had to focus, had to stay awake and aware. He had to save his mother.

Jason realized with a bit of a start that the Joker was gone. When he had escaped, Jason didn’t know; he must have drifted for a while, after all. He shook his head slightly, still gasping desperately for air as he slowly pushed himself up some, his arms trembling violently before the tremors took his entire body, Jason’s arms barely able to hold his weight. He couldn’t move one of his legs, and his other ankle was still fucked. That was fine, he told himself. That was okay. He could get to his mother, he could free her, send her to get help. He could do this. He could make it, survive, as he had always survived.

Dragging himself across the floor was no easy task. He had to pull his body forward by clawing at the concrete, using one knee to help squirm his way along. A dark trail followed him as he went, blood smeared across the floor and marking his path toward his mother. He was almost there. So close.

Jason wanted to say something to her. He wanted to tell her that it was okay, that she was safe. He wanted to assure her that he was going to get her out of there, that Batman would take care of them. He wanted to promise that he didn’t blame her, that he could still loved her, in spite of… of everything. He couldn’t make his mouth work, and was too busy trying to breathe to be bothered with talking.

When he reached her, Jason drug himself to his feet, feeling sick at the terrible pain in his bad ankle. His other leg still wasn’t obeying him, so he was forced to hold himself up with his hands, putting weight on the broken bones in his good ankle. Standing hurt more than lying down. Standing felt like the end of the world. Standing was still necessary to save his mother.

When he saw the timer, everything stopped. The clock was ticking down, down, down. He was out of time. He couldn’t save himself, he couldn’t save his mother. He had failed. It had been the only thing keeping him up, the hope that none of this would be for nothing. He’d failed his mom and father, he had failed his dad, he’d failed Dick and Alfred, and now, now, he had failed his mother. 

It was a terrible thing to realize, that he was going to die. 

He had only seconds left. Seconds, to feel the terrible pain in his body.   
Seconds, to position himself over his mother.   
Seconds, to pray that might help her.   
Seconds, to close his eyes, let out a slow breath.   
Seconds, to whisper out that he loved her, to apologize to Bruce. 

He wrapped his arms around her restrained form and held on tightly, laying against his mother’s body in hopes of acting as her shield. 

He was going to die. 

He was going to die. 

God, he was g


End file.
